


The Scars Of Our Souls

by littleberd



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, I was fucking pissed with the ending of Legends of Tomorrow season one..., M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, This is retribution, i needed to do this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleberd/pseuds/littleberd
Summary: When soulmates touch each other for the first time, a significant mark appears on their skin.Snart finds his both amusing, pitiful, and hilariously ironic.Barry is kind of freaking out about his because everyone is freaking out about his. I mean, who has a mark that takes up your entire right hand and looks like a severe case of frostbite? He honestly doesn't want to tell anyone who his soulmate is because Joe will probably have a stroke, Wells may or may not take it well, and Iris will drag the criminal into the precinct and embarrass everyone involved.





	1. A -19 degrees fahrenheit Criminal and a 220,000,000 per hour Samaritan

"Hey, cool it."

Leonard Snart orders steadily, aiming the redesigned flamethrower at the bank truck's back doors, "A hundred and fifty seconds to go."

The cool and collected criminal pulls the trigger, instantly freezing the doors. He kicks it in and the two inches of steel plated doors fall off of their hinges and shatter like glass.

Three simultaneous screams of pain a second later, Leonard exits the truck to get a handle on the situation and suddenly he's air born. The mastermind thief lays sprawled on the ground for a moment, hastily takes off his mask and looks at the retreating flash of yellow lightning disappearing like a mirage in the distance. Puzzlement contorts his face for the first time in a very, very long time.

And then it comes back. Leonard tries to keep his eyes on it but it's behind the truck now. Snart swiftly rouses his groaning goons and gestures to the bikes as a clue. Rounding the trucks to get to them, he spots something even more peculiar... a man in a red leather suit.

A hundred and 44 seconds.

"Where's the nearest hospital?"

Snart analyzes the guy that just appeared out of thin air elevating the guard that one of his idiots shot. Leonard inwardly groans in vexation. 

_All my planning has gone to shit. Now the only place I'll be able to get that pretty, shiny stone is in the well guarded, very public, and most cliche museum he's ever had the misfortune of going to. I blame cantankerous clyde for botching this one, and now we're going to have the doughnut eating squadron up our asses even more because trigger happy got excited. Where do you find good help these days?_

A voice that sounds like it's coming through a comm system answers something back.

"Call the ER, tell them they're have an incoming GSW."

Snart raises an eyebrow at that. _Why is a good Samaritan dressed up for a costume party here? Add one more dead cop onto my list of casualties, the poor son of a bitch is going to bleed out at this rate, because the hospital response is 10 minutes and 23 seconds from here by car._ Leonard grits his teeth as he swings onto the back of the bike. Murder never did quite sat well with him but it is a risk in his line of work. _Time to get the hell out of Dodge._

88 seconds.

The same flash of lightning beams past them, physically shaking the bikes. Snart is almost worried at one point about the current drivers balance but they even out before anything bad can come of it.

On a whim, he looks back at the mess he and his crew left. 

81 seconds.

The gentleman in red is nowhere in sight, the lethally injured guard is gone, and the other blue uniformed employee is standing stock still and and looking after them. Leonard squints in concentration but gives up once he realizes they really are gone.

76 seconds.

He turns back and registers the sirens wailing in the distance.

"This day keeps getting better and better..."

68 seconds.

They effectively evade the police by taking back alleys and they park in the warehouse.

Snart tosses his gear off, wherever it lands he doesn't care because he is **pissed off** right now. Leonard forces himself to not fling the laptop onto the counter. quickly uploading and wiping the cameras from the disaster he wants to erase from existence. Having **That** on his near spotless list of heists is going to have him in a _peachy_ mood for a long while.

Then the idiot that he can't help but blame comes back from stowing the bikes in a flustered fit, throwing his helmet on equipment that was very expensive and very hard to find illegally, "There's been some rumors the last few weeks. People seen a red blur tearing through the streets. What the hell is it man?"

"Maybe it was a drone?" one of the mindless muscle inputs. Leonard slows down the video.

"Some top secret Army thing?" the other adds. Snart zooms in on the image.

56 seconds.

_Gotcha..._

"When I was a kid, my grandfather use to take my sister and me to this diner, The Motor Car. Food was crap, but the view was great. Right across from the Central City Precinct. I still go there. I listen in to their radios, I learn their response times. There are 40 banks in Central City. Each of them within 60 seconds of police response. That's the advantage of hitting a moving target. Once the armored car called 911 we had 182 seconds before any cop could be on the scene. No ne could've gotten there fast enough to stop us. But something did." He stares into the idiots eyes that couldn't follow the simplest instructions, "And you lost your cool. You know the rules. We don't shoot guards or cops unless it's the only option. We don't need the heat."

"The Heat?" the reigning bumbling moron steps up and gets within a foot of the boss, but a glare of warning makes him stop, his instincts trying to preserve what little the man is worth, "What the hell do you think the blur is Snart?"

The guy knew he screwed up, so he honestly just wants to wash his hands of the whole ordeal. Leonard Snart was a cold and cruel bastard anyway, better not to get anymore involved with him, "Your right. Screw this, screw you. I'm out-"

But it's too late for that now. The man falls to the ground with the grace of a sack of potatoes, the man had the I.Q. of one anyway. 

21 seconds.

Snart breaths in and releases a ling drawn out sigh, "Well if you're out, you're out." He waves the gun and points it at the screen.

"This blur, is a man... We're gonna have to up our game."

Snart walks away from his crew and added dead body to go and clean himself off.

He slams the bathroom door and shucks off his shirt. Challenges always got him hot and bothered, but that was the fun of all this. Reeling in his emotions and being the best at what he's good at. Leonard goes to toss it in the convenient laundry basket but stops when he catches something in the mirror he hasn't seen before. 

A crimson lichtenberg fractal mark is right below his shoulder on his arm... ironically in the shape of a heart.

6 seconds.

"So he's a sappy bleeding heart kind of guy... It can't get any worse I suppose... my soulmate could be working for the Fuzz..."

O seconds.


	2. What a Black Day

Barry let loose an angry sound when he makes it to S.T.A.R. labs. The thieves had ridden off into the sunset by the time he got back to the wreckage.

"They weren't there. I'm heading to work. Joe is probably going to have me work this case since I'm involved anyway." Barry mutters, going into the other room and swiftly shimmying out of the ridiculously skin tight shirt.

"The street cams have been tampered with. I've got nothing, not even a cellphone image of these jerks. They're smart, I'll give them that." Cisco responds. Typing away on his laptop.

Barry tugs off the annoyingly clingy pants, putting his shirt on as well.

Barry puts on his roomy blue jeans and heads out.

"Hey you might get caught red handed at the scene of the crime!" Cisco lamely throws at Barry.

Barry cranes his head to look at the ceiling, a tsk of aggravation echoes from his lips. Barry reluctantly turns back around, and tosses the gloves he had forgotten about at Cisco's face.

"I will turn the other cheee-ooook when did that happen?!" Cisco frantically points at Barry's right hand in worry, "No way does that need ice on it!"

Barry looks at it with morbid interest, it didn't hurt, it looked like he should be screaming bloody murder at the extent of the damage. Barry was half tempted to poke it if he was sure it wouldn't just fall off like a zombie's rotting limb.

"C-caitlin! Dr. Wells! We need you guys in the med bay like YESTERDAY!" Cisco yells into the com.

∅∅∅∅∅∅∅∅∅∅∅

"It's not frostbite... None of your cells are damaged, in fact, they're not even your cells...ummm..."Caitlin trails off awkwardly.

Dr. Wells coughs, dragging everyone's attention to himself and away from the frazzled and confused Dr. Snow at his right. She sighs in relief and sends her boss a grateful glance.

"Let's not beat around the bush. Who did you touch with your right hand right after you left to stop the robbery?" Wells asks, hands steepled and wearily observing Barry's unusual hand.

Barry bites his lip in contemplation, "two-no, ONE of the robbers," _The one with icey confused intelligent blue eyes_ , "I grabbed that other guy by his shirt, and the injured guard..."

Cisco turns his laptop around, " The guy you saved already has a soulmate. Soooo... You secretly like bad boys?"

Caitlin shoves him and shakes her head, "Cisco, this is serious."

Barry looks at his right hand. His finger nails are a vibrant cerulean blue and his skin is midnight... Excepting five perfectly symetrical pure ivory snowflakes, the centers are his fingernails, and the rest stretches down his fingers with small shimmery silver trails of what resembles frost on a wintery window cascading down to as far as his palm.

Barry's cellphone shocks him out of his reverie, the caller I.D. reads simply "Joe". The text even simpler, " Get over here Barry."

Barry is just grateful that gloves are a must when you're a forensic and are handling evidence on the scene.

Barry pinches the bridge of his nose, shoving the fact that his soulmate is a wanted felon on the run right now and is probably going to go after whatever was in the armored truck again within the next 24 hours to the little Pandora box he's used many a time before in his head.

Barry slips on his first leather black glove over his soulmark as he walks down the hallway.

Barry catches "Michael Jackson", "Billie Jean", and "smooth criminal" from someone, decidedly Cisco, as he speeds away.

Barry can't resist the lyrical irony he quotes as it comes to mind, hops over his nonexistent filter, and does a triple backflip out of his mouth, "What a Black Day..."


	3. Should Have Expected This And Didn't Expect This

"So look through these mug shots of Central City's most wanted. See if you can find-"

Barry smirks at Joe and speeds through it til he lands on the one man he really doesn't want to see again, "That's him."

Joe shakes his head in disapproval, "Damn." Taking the book from Barry and reading the guy's file.

Joe's head tilts back and let's a ' _hah_ ' loose, resembling a baby bird wanting food, "Leonard Snart!"

Barry tries his damnedest not to laugh because that name was beautiful in and of itself, " 'Leonard'? That's almost as bad as 'Bartholomew'."

Joe snorts, "Snart ain't sexy either."

Joe's amused face turns sad, "Snart's father was a cop. A bad cop. Took his anger out on his kids, til he went to prison."

Barry nods at the new information. _Rough childhood. Still doesn't give him a reason to be like this._ , "Snart's dad is in prison too? Maybe we should start a club."

"He shows up like every 6 months. He cases a job for weeks before he makes his move. Then he does the job...and gets away." Joe grouches in annoyance.

Barry smirks at Joe, uping his fake confidence another level, "That was before the Streak was around."

Joe looks around in paranoia, before whispering back to Barry, "Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?" like he belonged in the nut house.

"No... I was referring to the Streak. Which I'm pretty sure I can top, I've been thinking of a new name. What do you think about the Flas-" 

"Coffee break!"

If Barry's heart wasn't beating faster than was healthy for a normal human it definitely wasn't now. Iris had scared him so badly he almost used his powers to skitter away in fright. Barry holds his hand over his heart trying to breath in and out without appearing to be hyperventilating.

"I thought I'd bring Central City's finest Java to Central City's Finest." Iris puns, nudging Barry in the arm. Somethings never change, puns were the West family's greatest past time besides prank wars. But this one was one of the cheesiest Iris has come up with yet.

Joe, who had also nearly died of a mini heart attack breathes out, "No, I'm off caffeine." Before resolutely giving Iris his best cold shoulder, walking away and probably stewing in whatever protective dad's feel when their partner turns out to be dating his daughter.

Barry inwardly shakes his head. _If you think Iris's relationship is bad... oh just wait til you find out about who my other half is suppose to be. And that's the kicker isn't it? Eddie and Iris are also soulmates. Eddie's got a steady respectable job going, a bright future, and a spotless past._ Leonard Snart _has none of those things. He's the exact polar opposite of Eddie. Why does the universe hate me?_

"My Dad's been angry ever since I told him about me and Eddie." Iris seethes.

Barry follows her along, she did bring coffee for him after all, "No you mean he's mad at you because you didn't tell him."

"First, that sounds like you're taking his side. And second, you know how he does this whole 'I'm not talking to you, but I have a whole bag full of Judgmental looks I'm going to try out on you later'?"

Barry snorts at that, "Yeah I've been on the receiving end of those a few times."

"Speaking of communication or lack there of... after all these journalism classes I got an idea. I started a blog."

"Alright, what's it about? Your brownie obsession? Cuz you know you probably shouldn't broadcast that." Barry jibes.

Iris gives him the _look_ , "Actually, it's a blog about your sudden fall of Fashion sense, Mr. Jackson."

Barry Har-Har's at her, subtly moving his covered hand out of view. Iris continues on, ignoring the strange behavior, "No, it's something important, something that Central City needs to know about. The Streak."

Barry was not expecting that. Sure he knew that he was slowly coming out of the urban myth stage with his heroics getting more publicized after a couple of weeks but really?

"He's out there Barry. Rumor has it that he stopped an armed car robbery earlier.", Iris batted her eyelashes and practically became attached to his side, "I was... kind of hoping that I could take a look at the fil-"

"Wha- I'm not at liberty to discuss an ongoing police investigation with you." Barry stops her right there. _I KNEW she wasn't bringing coffee here because of that pun._

Iris made a weird aggravated noise, "Since WHEN Mr. Blabbermouth?"

Barry decides it's best to retreat back to his use-to-be safe haven... because lightning never strikes in the same place twice right? But Iris is determined if anything else, following behind like the crazy woman she is.

"Take it from someone who's been investigating the impossible since they were 11. Blogging about _this_ is gonna bring the CRAZIES to your door." He shoots, ruthless as any critic.

Iris smirks, seeing the barb a mile away, "My blog is anonymous."

Barry snorts, "Anonymous or not, it's not safe. You never know what kind of weirdos are out there, _trolling_ , on the internet." Sensible and completely right in his judgement. Barry turns the corner-

"I can vouch for that."

Felicity Hacker Legend Smoak is in his lab awkwardly standing there looking nerd-ish and beautiful in her bright pink dress, "The internet is full of weirdos... and nerd rage." She looks at Barry and smirks, "Lots and lots of nerd rage."

Barry can only huff out a laugh in shock. Felicity grins at Barry until she remembers her manners, offering a handshake to Iris "Hi, Felicity Smoak."

Iris grins back at her, "Iris West."

Going for a perfect dork moment he interjects an introduction of his own, "Barry Allen. But you both already knew that. Uhh Felicity is-"

"The girl that you met in Starling City... The Computer-er right?" Iris interrupts, an evil and malevolent grin spreading across her face, Barry knew that grin and he could already see the sinister sisterly cogs turning in her head, "You two worked on one of Barry's unexplainable cases."

Felicity's smile could melt the sun, "Which, _long story short_ , was Definitely _explainable_." She glances up at the skylight, "So the lightning, came through here?"

Barry, releases a well-deserved sigh, trying once again to face what made him the way he is now, answering intelligently, "...yeah."


	4. No Unwanted Attention, Gotta Stay Below The Radar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROBYN!!!!! TAKE THE CHAPTER!!! NOW RELEASE THIS CHICK'S GRIP FROM MY THROAT!!! SHE'S STRANGLING ME!!!!
> 
> lol my dear and equally gay friend sends her regards and Merry Christmas to you
> 
> Hope my other cherished readers enjoy, because I've finally gotten off my ass and decided to post this!!! X'D

"Iris seems very nice." Felicity hints, wiggling her eyebrows at Barry, "And _Reeeeaaally_ pretty like super pretty. Congratulations."

Barry turns abruptly on Felicity, the much used question on his face of "Did I just hear that right?", "Iris isn't my girlfriend... she's just a friend now, who actually has a boyfriend."

"Oh, that's interesting." Felicity replies with hesitance, "I guess."

Barry stops her, surrounded by life in the public city park, children giggling as they roam free and play amongst themselves under the varying spectrum of doting and bored eyes of their parents. "What are you really doing here? I mean, it's good to see you...but, do you and Oliver need something?"

"No." Felicity clips, a sore spot apparently, "No, I came because I wanted to see you. I-heh, heard you were out of the coma. Didn't call. Didn't write." A glimmer of forbidden knowledge and a gleam of a promised pun, "Didn't... _race_ over."

Barry gulps down spit and nearly chokes on it, warily gazing at those gathered in their normal outings and family picnics, "Oliver told you?"

Felicity bites her lip in an attempt to hold a chuckle in, "Honestly, I heard you two chatting on that roof in Starling City that night."

Barry... doesn't have Felicity's amount of restraint, his chuckles knock-on-wood awareness banging loudly. _We were really blathering on up there. We could've talked about really embarrassing things up there but Ollie would've kept a straight face and recorded the whole conversation for blackmail. I've got to get him back for that, somehow... If I can get the drop on him._

"I wanna to see it." She interjects, eyes sparkling in fascination, the light Barry recognizes in his own eyes from when he met Dr. Wells for the first time, an innuendo instantly comes to mind though and she spots it faster than he does," And by _it_ I mean your speed. I case you thought I was talking about something else, which I was not."

Barry snickers at her _flawless nerdy_ save, nodding and replying yes as a sort of apology and/or consolation prize. Barry looks around, an idea sparking all at once, he points to a building in the distance, a skyscraper a good hundred or so floors up, "-uh, okay, you see that building over there?"

"uh-huh"

Barry looks at her with an impish grin, "Keep your eyes on it."

Felicity nods, wind whips her hair violently towards the building, her skirt near standing completely out as if an invisibly hand is holding it out for display. Red lightning and a shout of glee come from the building before the wind blows the other way, and their Barry stands, smug smile stretched across his face, a zoomed in picture of Felicity from the building clear as day on the screen.

"You took a picture of me?" Felicity asks, hastily pointing at the building, "From the top of that building?"

"Yeah, "Barry chuckles, but when Felicity's finger almost touches the screen Barry warns, "Don't Instagram that."

"Unbelievable..." Felicity mutters, shaking her head in awe.

Smoke suddenly rises from their feet only for them both to realize it's from Barr's specifically.

"YOUR SHOES ARE SMOKING!" Felicity near screams.

Barry does a great impression of Shirley Temple's Little Colonel Bojangle's tap dance routine, "That's fine, it happens sometimes... That's why I have a friction-proof suit." The last part said as a grin that is _entirely_ too pleased with itself brightens his cheeks.

"Where did you exactly stumble on that little novelty?" Felicity asks, working the quirked eyebrow with as much composure as she can muster.

"I'll show you." Barry answers, hand outstretched, Felicity takes it.

A child's bumbling chase knocks Felicity over, hand grabbing onto leather and pulling it off in one swift motion along with her fall. Barry catches her with both hands.

Felicity's scream is ear-drum breaking, her eyes glued to the frostbitten right hand of her friend.

Barry's shoulders sag, the good moment ruined by the one thing he _really_ wanted to completely ignore.

"Barry... is that?"

Barry's uncovered hand holds his forehead in aggravation, "Yes. It. Is. Now could you stop advertising it to everyone around us?"

20 eyes look away, caught in the confusing drama.

One girl with a cheery face and long red hair doesn't look away, a snort and a loud, "You're so screwed dude." ringing true.

Barry groans in anguish. 

*********Meanwhile in a shadier, less happy times and giggles area of the city in a warehouse with some less than good characters**********

"You wanted state-of-the-art, Snart. Well, I give you state-of-the-art, my good sir." the illegal arms dealer declares.

Snart's eyes land on a box containing a gun of some sort and matching goggles, "What's this?"

Snart casually lifts it up, testing it's weight and gaging it's balance. _A bit on the hefty side._

"It might not look like much but never judge a book by it's cover, you know? Fires highly concentrated combustible liquid fuel that ignites on contact with the air." The salesman in the guy trying to give as much detail as possible as to it's abilities.

_I think I know who that gun is suited for, too bad he's waiting in the slammer for a month to cool off. Can't have the best lug-head I know go down in flames over something as stupid as a pissing contest over The Muppets being better than Sesame Street while he was off-his-face in front of the police department having a dance-off with an equally drunken idiot failing epically at doing the moonwalk and tripping over a discarded coffee cup. Only reason I followed the pair of morons was to make sure they didn't decide skinny-dipping was the best option to settle the argument, I was NOT going to fish one naked and entirely too tipsy Saints and Sinners patron out let alone two. Plus... that made for great blackmail._

Leonard turns away, "I don't need to heat things up. I need to slow them down." Snart spots the same case as before just on the other table with a different styled weapon inside.

"That's the one then. You were drawn _right_ to it. Stolen from S.T.A.R. Labs after the _incident_ ," a pathetic attempt at a creepy laugh escapes the creepy dealer's mouth, "with nothing but the skeleton security crew to guard the tech inside."

Len fires it up, a near blinding light coming from the cylinder, the weight was perfect as well as the balance, rather shiny too... and boy did he always have a taste for shiny things.

"It emits some sort of substance, not sure what it is, like a white flame. But it's not hot... it's _cold_."

Leonard catches a reflection in his blue eyes, goggles from the gun's case cast light, "Glasses look like they're made from the same tech. What are they for?" Snart picks them up, glancing at the image of himself the refractor back.

"Glare. You'll see." The dealer answers. _Hyper and excited as a newly bought pup._

Len puts the goggles on, the gun feeling as though a part of his frigid demeanor already, "Who else knows you took this?"

"Just us."

_Too bad the dog doesn't realize he's about to be put down_

"No, just me, sorry..." _slushpuppy_


End file.
